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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26130607">Our side</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/WoodsWitch/pseuds/WoodsWitch'>WoodsWitch</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Flights of Fancy [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman &amp; Terry Pratchett</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Communication, Crowley's Plants (Good Omens), Domestic, Established Relationship, Happy Ending, Kissing, M/M, Novel methods of plant motivation, past angst</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 09:26:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,044</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26130607</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/WoodsWitch/pseuds/WoodsWitch</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Flights of Fancy, part 6:</p><p>"In the bandstand. You said: <em>There is no 'our side'. Not anymore. It's over'</em>. Which, yes, was a bit of a stab to the gut. But that choice of words...you already thought of it as 'our side' too, didn't you?"<br/>Aziraphale smiled ruefully. "I suppose I did. I didn't live up to that very well, though, did I?"<br/>... Crowley sighed. "... I was still a fucking coward too, and I can't help wondering what would have happened if you'd really known. If, <em>at any point</em>, I'd told you at least the abridged version of how I felt. From the start, even. Like, what if we could have done it all mostly like we did but just...knowing?"</p><p>In which Aziraphale and Crowley hang out in Crowley's rooftop garden, a few last secrets are shared, and history is re-written - if only in their imaginations.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Flights of Fancy [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1867303</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Our side</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>            "Right, then," Crowley muttered, as he tucked the purple-leafed <em>Colocasia</em> into its waist-high black glazed planter and patted down the soil around its roots. "You're new here, so here's the short-form orientation: I have very high standards for this garden. Look around. Do you see any wilting? Aphids? No? I didn't think so. Now, I'm not unfair. You'll have everything you need to succeed. See that dripline? That's not just water - that is a very carefully calibrated nutrient solution. But I <em>will not</em> <em>tolerate</em> any bloody slacking. Understood?"</p><p>The dark leaves trembled slightly.</p><p>            "My word! What a striking specimen!"</p><p>Crowley straightened up, and pushed a wayward copper curl out of his eyes. Aziraphale almost blended in to the sea of white dahlias and cosmos and pale yellow roses on this side of the rooftop garden.</p><p>"Don't go praising it yet, Angel. It'll get cocky." He leaned back toward the plant for a moment to whisper: "Although, play your cards right, and there could be a photo in Gardens Illustrated in your future, eh?"</p><p>"Who said I was talking about the plant, dear?" the angel replied cheekily.</p><p>He handed a glass to the suddenly sputtering demon. "I did stop by the herb patch to thank that little mint plant for these, though. I don't think I ever quite managed to make a properly authentic-tasting mojito until now. What do you think?"</p><p>            Crowley took a sip. "Mmm. Well, it should be authentic. I did pocket the original cuttings back in 1962."</p><p>The flavor conjured memories of tropical breezes, the angel in a crisp linen suit, and stumbling on a cache of nuclear missiles. Not that the latter was exactly <em>good </em>but, looking back, the urgent scheming and negotiating that followed - in both human and non-human circles - felt something like a dress rehearsal. Of course, the rush of working together and actually winning, properly <em>winning</em>, for once, had gone to his head. Had led to a rebuke of <em>going too fast</em>, a few years down the line. Well, at whatever speed, they'd got where they were going in the end, hadn't they?</p><p>He smiled, and took Aziraphale's hand. "Hot up here, isn't it? Let's find a shady spot to enjoy these."</p><p>            The demon led the way down a gently curving path. To the right were pale blossoms and silvery or variegated foliage. To the left, purple-leaved dahlias with wine-red blooms mingled with deep purple lisianthus, black baccara roses, obsidian heucheras, fragrant hellebores, and poppies in every shade from scarlet to amethyst. Smack in the middle of the widest part of the dark sea of rustling leaves and blossoms was a snowy white planter with the <em>Colocasia's</em> pale twin, its huge heart-shaped leaves bright green with a white edge. Beyond the edge of the circular cluster of pots was a little arbor, a potted fig to its right, a dwarf apple tree to its left. The grapevines that lined the back edge of the rooftop garden twined over its lattice roof, casting a welcome shade. Crowley threw himself down on one of the pool chair chaise lounge thingies<a href="#ref1" id="ref1back" name="ref1back"><sup>1</sup></a> inside with a satisfied groan.</p><p>            Aziraphale arranged himself on the other - which was pulled snuggly up alongside the first - with somewhat more decorum, and looked out over the garden. Curving planters filled with mint, sage, rosemary, thyme, and half a dozen other culinary herbs encircled the dome of the bookshop skylight. Though you couldn't really see it from here, the boxes on the edge facing Old Compton Street were planted in bands of red verbena, orange nasturtiums, yellow nemesia, dark green ivy, blue lobelia, and violet petunias<a href="#ref2" id="ref2back" name="ref2back"><sup>2</sup></a>.</p><p>"You really have done marvels up here, my dear." The angel waved a hand at the circular arrangement of pots and planters they had just walked through. "I only just noticed what you were going for with that - it's very clever."</p><p>            Crowley wondered if he should mention that he had originally thought of arranging the plants into a giant middle finger, for the benefit of those nosy gits in heaven's Earth Observation Department - but then had concluded that it would be a lot of work for a rather childish joke. The swirl of light with a spot of dark curling around the swirl of dark with a spot of light made the point just as well, and was more aesthetically pleasing from ground level. "It seemed appropriate," was all he said.</p><p>            The angel kicked off his shoes and wiggled his toes happily as he sipped his drink and took in the view. Crowley's golden eyes watched him fondly.</p><p>"I'm glad you like it, Angel."</p><p>"Of course I do." Aziraphale beamed at him. "You made us our own little Eden. That's very poetic. And it's beautiful."</p><p>Crowley eyed the little apple tree, on which the first fruits, gold dappled with red, were ripening. Noticing his gaze, it straightened up a little. It would be big enough to climb, soon, in his serpent form.</p><p>            Echoing Crowley's earlier thought, Aziraphale added: "I'm so glad we ended up here - full circle, you might say, though with a better understanding of each other. And I'm sorry it took so long."     </p><p>Crowley gave a thoughtful hum. "Do you ever wonder...what if Future You could have told Past You how everything turns out?"</p><p>The angel pondered this for a moment and then brightened. "Oh! You mean like in those Back to the Past films?"</p><p>"Back to the Future."</p><p>Aziraphale looked confused. "What?"</p><p>"That's the name of the movie you're thinking of, Angel: 'Back to the Future'."</p><p>The angel shook his head. "No, no, surely not, dear boy. That doesn't make any grammatical or temporal sense."</p><p>Crowley groaned. "No, look, they went to the past, and then had to..." He paused, and shook his head. "Never mind. Yes, like that." <em>He</em> had certainly imagined it.</p><p>~~~</p><p>            Crowley had been sitting outside his building in the Bentley, staring morosely at a tartan thermos, for much longer than he would care to admit.</p><p>"'Too fast?'" he muttered to himself. "It's been almost six thousand years, Angel! A taxidermied sloth would go too fast for you."</p><p>It was just so fucking <em>tiring</em>. The angel liked him a great deal, he was sure of it. He complained when Crowley was away for too long, he accepted the attention and gifts with the most fetching blushes, he worried over the demon's safety. But he also had a distinct tendency to panic at the slightest hint of <em>change</em>, of anything in their relationship actually getting <em>defined</em>.</p><p>Crowley leaned his head against the steering wheel and sighed. "What do you actually WANT, Angel?"</p><p>            A faint 'twing' and the sudden presence of another figure in the car made him start. "Gah! Bless it, Angel, don't keep...Oh."</p><p>It wasn't Aziraphale in the passenger seat. It was, well, <em>him</em>, apparently. The hairstyle and the clothes were different, but there was no mistaking the face he saw in the mirror every morning. Especially since Other Crowley wasn't wearing any sunglasses, his serpentine eyes on full display.</p><p>"He meant it, you know," Other Crowley said. "About the picnic. And the Ritz. Meant it the way it sounded, the way <em>you</em> want those things - to be able to do them without pretending it means less than it does."</p><p>Crowley snorted. "Yeah, right. So he wants that <em>someday.</em> Who knows when <em>someday</em> is going to be?"</p><p>Other Crowley raised an eyebrow. "Well, I do. Obviously."</p><p>"Huh?"</p><p>"As you probably noticed, I'm you. Now does <em>this</em>," he waved his hand at his clothing, "look like anything you remember wearing yet?"</p><p>Crowley looked at the dark jacket with the flaring lapels, the serpent-head belt, the black jeans that appeared to have been painted on. "Uh...no?"</p><p>            Other Crowley nodded. "Right. Which means I'm you from the future. And I just... I want you to know he chooses <em>you</em>. In the end."</p><p>Crowley frowned. "What does that mean, 'in the end'? That's as vague as 'someday'."</p><p>"Not really, if you'd turn on your brain for five minutes. Bless it, was I really this dense?" Other Crowley muttered to himself. "The end of <em>everything</em>. Only not really, so don't worry about that, either."</p><p>"Er, what?"</p><p>"Look, I'm trying not to be too specific here. Because of timey-wimey stuff."</p><p>"Timey-wimey?" Crowley's head was starting to hurt slightly. "What the <em>heaven</em> are you on about?"</p><p>            Other Crowley sighed. "Uggh, that Dr. Who episode hasn't happened yet either, has it? Let's just say - you're going to go through some stuff. You're going to think you've lost him. More than once. But you don't. You save each other. And you end up...free."</p><p>Crowley stared at himself, the cynical response dying on his lips. Other Crowley's eyes - there was a calm there, a true confidence, that he'd never seen in his own reflection. "Er. Thanks, mate. Just another millennium or two to go, then?"</p><p>"Oh, a lot sooner than you might think. Just..." Other Crowley nodded at the thermos, "be careful with that stuff. But keep it handy, yeah?"</p><p>And then he was gone.</p><p>~~~</p><p>            Crowley didn't say any of that out loud. He just let it play through his head while Aziraphale considered the question.</p><p>"Ah! Well, that would have been quite comforting, of course." The angel's brow furrowed. "Although, if I'd known, I probably would have acted differently. And what if, because of that, <em>this</em> future never happened?"<br/>
"Yeah, that is one of those time travel paradoxes," Crowley conceded. He was curious, though. "What might you have done differently? If you knew how stuff would play out, I mean."</p><p>            Aziraphale sighed. "Oh, a great deal, I expect. Handled the whole holy water request better, for one thing. But then you would have been awake for the last four decades of the 19th century, and who knows what history-altering shenanigans you, or <em>we</em>, would have gotten involved in? And then, of course, there was that whole bandstand debacle. That went even worse than I'd planned and if I'd <em>known</em>... Well, I'm not sure I could have gone through with it. But if I hadn't, then the whole timeline of the Apocawhoops..."</p><p>"Wait, hang on!" Crowley interrupted. "What do you mean 'planned' and 'gone through with it'?"</p><p>"Oh dear. Did I not explain about that?"</p><p>The demon raised an eyebrow. "<em>No</em>, Angel. You <em>didn't</em>. Explain what?"</p><p>Aziraphale twiddled his fingers nervously. "Ah. Well. The thing is, when you called me up, I'd just worked out that Adam was the Antichrist, but I wasn't sure I should say anything."</p><p>            Crowley goggled at him. "Fucking <em>why not!? </em> Wasn't that the whole point of our blasted Tadfield Manor excursion the day before? Had second thoughts about the whole enterprise, did you?"</p><p>"<em>No!</em> Do you think I <em>wanted</em> to pick up a sword again to fight <em>you</em>?" Aziraphale shuddered. "I may not be much for sleep, but do you have any idea how many waking nightmares I had about that? But if I told you where Adam was...well, the only plan we had was to kill him. And, ethics of antichrist-child-murder aside, if <em>either</em> of us did that, and he showed back up Downstairs, how long do you think it would have been before your lot figured out we'd been interfering? So I planned to stall until I could try to get heaven to assist with the thwarting so they could blame Gabriel or someone, not <em>you</em>. Then you started suggesting that we run away together and...oh, my dear, I <em>so</em> wanted to say yes." The angel gazed earnestly at him. "You must believe me. I <em>couldn't</em>, but it made me think that maybe I could save you."</p><p>            The demon's brow wrinkled. "Huh? Save me?"</p><p>"Think about it, dear boy. Which of us was most at risk even if no one ever found out about the apocalypse-thwarting attempt? If heaven won, you'd either be dead or locked up in hell forever. If hell won, they'd almost certainly have something unpleasant to say about that baby mix-up. Your, well, <em>proposal</em> made me realize that there was a chance for you to get away from all that. But not if I came with you. Both of us mysteriously vanishing at the same time? They would have figured it out eventually, Crowley. Whoever won. We would have given up on the earth and everyone on it, and still not been safe. But you've always been so stubborn and protective - I knew the only way you'd go alone is if I made you believe...well, that I didn't want you around anymore. So I...said all those awful things."</p><p>            Aziraphale closed his eyes, the words echoing in his head:</p><p>
  <em>We're not friends. We have nothing whatsoever in common. I don't even like you! There is no 'our side' Crowley! </em>
</p><p>"I thought that maybe, regardless of what happened with heaven, I could find you afterward, and apologize. Or, even if I couldn't, I'd at least know that you were <em>safe </em>and<em> free</em>, somewhere out in the stars. But if I knew you loved me like I love you...I don't think I could have done it. I deliberately stomped on your heart - twice! - not knowing how close it must have been to breaking already. I'm <em>so</em> sorry."</p><p>Crowley was silent for a long moment. Then....</p><p>"What made you change your mind?"</p><p>The angel's eyes blinked open. "What?"</p><p>"You called me back. You were going to tell me about Adam after all, if Hastur, and Shadwell, hadn't interrupted."</p><p>"Well, it turned out you were correct about heaven, or at least the angels making the executive decisions, all along. Not that I should have been surprised. You always had a better sense of right and wrong than them anyway."</p><p>            "Anymore," Crowley said musingly.</p><p>"Eh?"</p><p>"In the bandstand. You said: <em>There is no 'our side'. Not anymore. It's over</em>'. Which, yes, was a bit of a stab to the gut. But that choice of words...you already thought of it as 'our side' too, didn't you?"</p><p>Aziraphale smiled ruefully. "I suppose I did. I didn't live up to that very well, though, did I?"</p><p>"Oh, I don't know. The whole issue with <em>saying things</em> or, you know, <em>not saying things</em>, did confuse stuff a bit. But in retrospect...we were helping each other out and sort-of-collaborating <em>ages</em> before The Arrangement. You think I would have had the courage to float that idea if you hadn't told me where to take the people I was trying to rescue from the Flood, and patched me up after the subsequent performance review? Or yanked me out from under the feet of that Carthaginian war elephant? Or called on my snake-goddess impersonation skills to make sure you wouldn't actually have to use those plagues in Egypt<a href="#ref3" id="ref3back" name="ref3back"><sup>3</sup></a>? Or, for that matter, trusted me with a potentially damaging secret about your sword in our very first conversation?"</p><p>            "I suppose there is that," Aziraphale conceded. He had curled onto his left side facing Crowley, mirroring the demon's posture. It felt intimate, confessional - like the night he realized what he had been overlooking for so long, the night they figured out how to break free. "I still should have said something. But, as you know, I had a bad case of 'not supposed to'. You might not have said everything you felt, but you did call me 'friend', and you...showed so much of yourself. It was both delightful and terrifying. Especially after I realized my feelings for you were more than friendly. I was so frightened of saying or doing something that might get you killed if either of our sides started paying closer attention."</p><p>Crowley sighed. "I know. But I was still a fucking coward too, and I can't help wondering what would have happened if you'd really known. If, at <em>any point</em>, I'd told you at least the abridged version of how I felt. From the start, even. Like, what if we could have done it all mostly like we did but just...knowing?"</p><p> </p><p>~~~</p><p>            The setting sun turned the water of the river to flame, and colored the fluffy clouds in shades of pink and amethyst. Maybe it was the beauty of the setting, or the still-unfamiliar warmth of alcohol running through his veins that inspired it. Or maybe it was just that a certain celestial being had deigned to linger on the grass all afternoon, close enough to touch, talking and laughing with one he should have, at best, considered a worm beneath his notice; at worst, an enemy to be destroyed.</p><p>            "Angel..." The demon's voice cracked slightly as he spoke.</p><p>Aziraphale looked around at him curiously. "Hmm?"</p><p>Crawly tugged on a blade of grass. "I...I don't want to be your enemy," he muttered.</p><p>Aziraphale scoffed lightly. "My dear boy, you are <em>literally </em>The Enemy."</p><p>He started slightly as the demon seized his hand, but Crawly just pressed it, gently, and the demon's golden eyes gazed up at him with unexpected earnestness. "Not yours, though. Never yours." Crawly sighed elaborately. "And, to be, well,<em> honest</em> for a minute...not really even theirs." He waved his other hand toward the human village on the other side of the river. "I mean, yes, it's hilarious to mess with them a bit. But I don't really see the point in...that is, I don't particularly feel like really <em>hurting</em> them. Not <em>permanently</em>."</p><p>            The angel seemed to be having trouble processing this statement. Half a dozen expressions flitted across his face and he opened and closed his mouth several times before managing: "Crawly...You're not...Are you saying you want to...switch sides?"</p><p>Crawly rolled his eyes. "Pfft. Bit late for that, don't you think?"</p><p>"Well, I don't know," the angel said encouragingly. He hadn't let go of the demon's left hand, and gave it an encouraging little squeeze. "If you really, sincerely, apologized to the Almighty, then maybe..."</p><p>The demon arched an eyebrow at him. "You think I didn't try that, angel? I'm unforgivable, apparently - though only She knows why. And I'm not sure I want to be back on a side that would let someone burn for an eon, mark them like <em>this</em>" - he pointed at his serpent tattoo and unfurled his inky feathers - "and never actually explain what they did wrong. Apart from asking some v<em>ery reasonable </em>questions. And if <em>that</em> was it, then...personally, I don't want to be taken back." Crawly glowered at the ground for a moment, wings hunched up on his back.</p><p>            Then his face softened, and he turned back to Aziraphale. "But, Angel, if I thought groveling for forgiveness would actually let me stay with you, would let me work <em>with</em> you instead of against you, I'd do it in a heartbeat." He reached out and cupped the angel's cheek in his right hand.</p><p>Aziraphale blushed violently, but he didn't pull away. "Wh...b...Why?"</p><p>The demon leaned closer. "Because I really like you, Angel. Just this: Sitting on the grass and talking and drinking this...this <em>wine</em> stuff, with you... It's better than anything I can remember Upstairs<a href="#ref4" id="ref4back" name="ref4back"><sup>4</sup></a>."</p><p>"Crawly!" The angel was clearly trying to sound scandalized, but there was the flash of a bashful smile in there that gave the demon the courage to insist: "It is! <em>You</em> are! You're better than any of them, and I don't know why you talk to me, but...I'm so glad you do."</p><p>            The angel flushed a deeper pink. "You're trying to tempt me, aren't you, you old serpent?"</p><p>"What? No!" Crawly said hurriedly, snatching his hand hurriedly away from the angel's face, before conceding: "Well, not for any of <em>them</em>, anyway. Maybe for me, a bit."</p><p>Aziraphale swallowed. "W...why?"</p><p>"Because you're...you're <em>you</em>." Crawly searched for words to explain what he meant. "Cheerful and smart. Oddly fussy. A bit bitchy. Naturally kind, even to demons - except when you need not to be. In love with life, and the humans, and anything tasty you can put in your mouth, and just <em>this place</em> and all it has to offer."</p><p>"Oh." Aziraphale seemed to be contemplating that string of descriptors. "I'm not sure all that was flattering, but I feel like it was supposed to be. So...thank you?"</p><p>Crawly smiled. "Yeah, it was." He could see how there might be confusion. But <em>perfect</em>, the way heaven seemed to want things to be perfect, wasn't very interesting. "You're interesting."</p><p>            He muttered something else under his breath.</p><p>"What was that, dear boy?"</p><p>"Uggh, I <em>said </em>you're also <em>really pretty</em>," the demon groaned, looking acutely embarrassed at the words that were coming out of his mouth. "Or, y'know, handsome. Whatever. I like looking at you, OK?"</p><p>"Crawly!" The angel looked almost hurt. "Now, really, I wouldn't think you'd..."</p><p>The demon sunk his face in his hands. "I know, I know! I shouldn't have said it. I know you don't want some filthy hellbeast looking at you like that. But I can't help it."</p><p>"You're not <em>filthy</em>," Aziraphale snapped, and the tone in the angel's voice made Crawly look up in surprise. "And you're not a <em>beast</em>. I mean, you are a <em>snake</em>, obviously. But you are just as charming and lovely in that form as this one."</p><p>"I'm not... Wait. You think I'm <em>lovely</em>?"</p><p>The angel actually <em>scoffed</em>. "As if you don't know."</p><p>"I..." Crawly paused, confused. He didn't <em>hate</em> his corporation. It was stronger than it looked, flexible (in multiple senses of the word), had quick reflexes. It got the job done. But <em>lovely</em>? "Really? Even with, like, the eyes, and..." He rustled his coal-black wings.</p><p>            Aziraphale's fingers reached out, stroked the iridescent feathers in a way that made Crawly shiver. "Your eyes are stunning, Crawly," he said softly. "Mesmerizing. Like...like honey. And your wings - they're so sleek, and just as soft as they look."</p><p>"Ngk." Crawly swallowed. "Er, probably not as soft as yours."</p><p>There was a rustling noise, and the demon was suddenly encircled in snowy pinions. The angel was giving him a look that was almost mischievous. "Care to test that hypothesis?"</p><p>Hesitantly, Crawly did, long fingers sinking into cloud-like white feathers. Aziraphale sighed, almost as if a demon's touch could possibly be pleasant.</p><p>"Soft," Crawly murmured, hardly caring that he sounded like an idiot. "All of you is just so<em> soft</em>, Angel."</p><p>That hurt look returned to the angel's eyes, and Crawly realized what the problem might be. "No, 's a good thing. I'm not...demon's aren't s'pposed to have anything soft or, or <em>nice</em>. Not supposed to want that. But you <em>are</em> and I <em>do</em>."</p><p>Aziraphale smiled at him. "You're nice too."</p><p>Crawly sputtered indignantly. "N...No I'm not! I..."</p><p>            Aziraphale leaned forward and pressed their lips together, which shut the demon up quite effectively. Then he sat back, and his grey eyes met Crawly's.</p><p>"Yes, you are," he said firmly. "You might be a sometimes-irritating, overly-dramatic troublemaker, but you are also clever, and funny, and generous. And I like you very much as well."</p><p>The demon's brain sputtered like a campfire in the rain. The angel had <em>kissed </em>him! An innocent, friendly sort of kiss, true. But this captivating being also thought Crawly was charming and funny, and he even liked his weird eyes. Crawly wasn't quite sure what this feeling was that made his skin feel suddenly like it was two sizes too small and also on fire, and his stomach squirm around like there was a whole hibernaculum in there. One thing was quite clear, though.</p><p>"Nnrggh. That was...I really, really want to kiss you again, Angel. Can I?"</p><p>Aziraphale flushed. "I probably <em>ought</em> to say no. But, er, I think I would quite like it if you did."</p><p>            That invitation had Crawly's inner snake wanting to lunge face-first at the angel and wrap him up in his coils, but Crawly restrained this impulse, settling for resting his hands on Aziraphale's shoulders and brushing his lips against his. The angel gave a happy little murmur, and suddenly there were finger tangling in his long copper curls, pulling him in closer. Emboldened, Crawly let his forked tongue flicker along the angel's lower lip. Aziraphale, kissed him back with as much relish as he had exhibited when devouring the honeyed almonds Crawly had shared with him earlier. His mouth still tasted like those confections, in fact. Crawly <em>whimpered</em><a href="#ref5" id="ref5back" name="ref5back"><sup>5</sup></a>, and dug his fingers into the down at the base of Aziraphale's wings, drawing a pleased gasp from the angel.</p><p>            After a while, Crawly noticed something. "Angel, you're glowing."</p><p>Aziraphale blinked at the light that was visible along the edges of his wings in the deepening twilight. "Oh. So I am. That's not a problem, is it?"</p><p>"Nah. I mean, it tingles a bit. But it feels nice."</p><p>"Well, so long as you're sure. I wouldn't want to - oh!"</p><p>"What?"</p><p>The angel squinted at him. "There's sort of a shadow coming off of you. Made me go all shivery."</p><p>"Ah, shit. Sorry!"</p><p>"No, no. It's quite all right. I suppose it's maybe the opposite or the equivalent of what my, my glow is to you?"</p><p>Crawly grinned. "Yeah? Well, that <em>is</em> interesting, isn't it?</p><p>            There were no fireworks that night. Though they stayed wrapped up in each other's arms until dawn, their explorations were slow and gentle, made up mostly of kisses and quiet words, the brush of wing-tip to wing-tip and of dark aura against light.</p><p>"Angel..." Crawly whispered into the silver curls tucked up under his chin. "Whatever happens - I meant what I said. About wishing I could stay with you. About never wanting to be your enemy."</p><p>"Hmm," Aziraphale mumbled, almost sleepily. Then he seemed to wake up, and lifted his head to fix Crawly with a keen grey eye. "What do you mean 'whatever happens'? What's going to happen?"</p><p>The demon shook his head. "I don't know, exactly. But we're supposed to be enemies, aren't we?" <em>We're almost certainly not supposed to be</em> cuddling, <em>or...or doing whatever that thing with the light and shadow that feels so amazingly good is</em>, his mind added, but he didn't say it out loud. "Our head offices certainly hate each other. I think something bad is coming."</p><p>Aziraphale sighed. "I don't want there to be another war. I certainly don't want to have to fight you."</p><p>"I don't think it will be like the last time. Not yet, anyway. I think...have you seen the thing the humans do with the white and black pebbles on a board? I think it will be something like that, but with the world."</p><p>            The angel pondered this. "Heaven and hell are using the earth like a game board?"</p><p>"I think so, yeah. With, with sending me up to tempt the humans and get them kicked out of Eden being the first move. Not that I knew that at the time," he hastened to add.</p><p>"<em>Hmmm..</em>."</p><p>Crawly had heard that particular hum before. "Angel? What are you thinking?"</p><p>"<em>Well</em>... If you are supposed to be moving some of the pieces about, and I'm supposed to be countering you...we could be down here for quite a while, potentially. Or <em>up here</em>, in your case. As long as we were useful to the game." Aziraphale's face fell, and he sighed. "But we'd still be on opposite sides."</p><p>"We'd have to <em>appear</em> to be on opposite sides," Crawly amended, catching the drift of Aziraphale's original idea.</p><p>"What?"</p><p>"If it <em>seemed</em> like we were adversaries, even if we weren't actually trying to do damage to each other, we could both stay on earth. And still see each other, if we were careful."</p><p>"You mean...lie?" the angel said uncertainly.</p><p>The demon waggled his head. "Eh...more like omitting certain details they don't need to know, probably. I mean, I wasn't exactly going to include last night in my next report, were you?"</p><p>"N...No..." Aziraphale admitted. Then he brightened. "Though I suppose I could always say I was thwarting you!"</p><p>"You what?"</p><p>The angel gave him a cheeky look. "Well, you weren't exactly out plotting the downfall of humanity last night, now were you?"</p><p>"Uh, no. That's true." Crawly grinned. <em>See? I knew you were smart.</em> "So, what do you say, Angel? Want to be my Adversary? Keep thwarting my wicked wiles?"</p><p>~~~</p><p> </p><p>            The angel kissed his demon, and smiled. "I say: I'm game if you are, dear."</p><p>Crowley smiled back. "Thanks for helping me re-write history, Angel."</p><p>Aziraphale leaned his head against his chest. "If only, my dear."</p><p>"Yeah. But never mind that. What do you want to do tomorrow?"</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>            If you want to imagine the future, you could imagine Aziraphale and Crowley running a bookshop that more closely resembles a library, tending a half-sentient garden on its roof, scattering blessings and mischief across central London...forever. But everyone knows that everything changes, and no one knows it like an ex-demon and a retired angel. Even the best-kept plants wither, well-loved books crumble to dust, and cities are lost to the sands of time. But a love that grew over sixty centuries from a fragile sapling to a great tree that helped shelter the whole world under its branches - even if it was the mistakes more than the plan that did the trick - withstanding flood and fire...well, such a thing could survive a great many changes yet. And it is a safe bet that their dance of light and dark will continue as long as there are stars in the sky. And perhaps beyond.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><a id="ref1" name="ref1"></a>1."Chaise <em>longue</em>" Aziraphale had corrected once. "It means 'long chair'" "Says the entity who couldn't remember enough French to avoid getting his head chopped off?" Crowley had snorted. "Look, it's clearly meant for <em>lounging</em> on, and that's what I'm going to call it."<a href="#ref1back">Back</a></p><p><a id="ref2" name="ref2"></a>2. The view of this display from the street side had recently graced the June cover of Gardener's World - much to the surprise of the editor, who could have sworn she had selected the photo of a foliage-heavy courtyard.<a href="#ref2back">Back</a></p><p><a id="ref3" name="ref3"></a>3. See 'warning coloration'.<a href="#ref3back">Back</a></p><p><a id="ref4" name="ref4"></a>4. He thought about noting that it was better than Downstairs, too, but decided that kinda went without saying. Literally anything was better than hell - that was the whole point.<a href="#ref4back">Back</a></p><p><a id="ref5" name="ref5"></a>5. He'd probably be embarrassed about that later. Or perhaps not.<a href="#ref5back">Back</a></p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks to entanglednow's plant-focused fics for the idea of Crowley developing more positive-reinforcement gardening techniques!</p><p>The scene on the riverbank is an alternate version of a scene in 'Warning coloration'. It is after Eden, and they've gotten to know each other better, but nothing really bad has happened yet, and the misunderstandings haven't piled up. Aziraphale doesn't know that they're supposed to be playing for the eternal souls of humanity (though Crowley probably at least suspects it), and hasn't heard the Archangel propaganda about demons being incapable of love. So it seemed like the lowest-risk pre-Apocawhoops window for one or both of them to actually be honest about their feelings.</p><p>When re-reading the book after watching the show, it struck me that part of their journey, especially for Aziraphale, was realizing that they had been given the wrong framing. They aren't light and dark in the Western sense, good and evil in a zero-sum game. They are yin and yang, opposites each with just enough of the other's nature to work together and create balance. Of course, on some level they probably always knew that. Why else would they have become friends? But it took quite a while to get to the point where they could start to name it: "deep down, just a little bit a good person" and "just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing".</p></blockquote></div></div>
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